Saturday, January 5, 2013

Disney week 8: Revealed. The Nervous Breakdown.

Again, I wrote this several weeks ago. But I'm ready to open a dialogue to discuss it now.

Finally, I admit the personal, intimate, details to my nervous breakdown.


Tues, Nov 27, 2012

While preparing our belated Thanksgiving feast over the weekend, one of my roommates put in the movie “The Devil Wears Prada” which talks a lot about career, drive, and the sacrifices you might and maybe shouldn’t make as you work your way to the top.

The main character confides to a coworker that her personal life is hanging by a thread.
His response is “That happens when you start to do well at your job.
Call me when your entire life goes up in smoke.
That’s when it’s time for a promotion.”

That pretty much sums up my feelings and experiences this passed week and especially today.

Another example from the movies (hey, it’s okay, I work at Hollywood Studios after all!):

In every thematic drama there is a point about 2/3 the way through the movie where the main character is at a major crossroads.
You know they are either going to make a life changing decision or move, or they’re going to mess it all up and leave you yelling at the screen about what they should have done instead.
Or both.
That is where I am right now.

Anyone that knows me knows that I run on Hawaiian Time. Anyone who has been to the islands knows that things are more laid back and anyone that arrives less than five minutes late is actually early. But then we stay as long as is needed to get the job done, we do a great job, everyone loves us.

But that doesn’t work in the business world here on the mainland. And Disney doesn’t care if you’re one minute late, an hour late, or didn’t go in at all; it is all bad, goes on your permanent record and you’re done for. And even though I plan to leave like an hour early for work, those little things pile up that cause delays and suddenly you’re racing through traffic and trying to politely dash through the parking lot to clock in on time.

Add morning sickness to this and there can be no more wiggle room to getting to work on time.


I’d been doing so well! *frustraited sigh*

I finished work on the Spot the other day in record time! I was working with the fastest worker in our group and I had to wait on him to get some things ready because I had already completed my tasks. Several days in a row I got compliments from my manager that I had done a really good job that day.

We overcame unimaginable odds in terms of the massive amounts of production we had to accomplish each day, and worked later and later to get everything done.

While I was at work of course I was AT WORK and working my tail off. I didn’t wander away from my station or start messing with my phone, or just disappearing for maybe ten minutes at a time as some of my coworkers are known to do. I wouldn’t even stop for a drink until I had all of my production done at that point. But I still clocked in a minute or two late and more than once. And that is all that matters.

As the week came to a close, I got sick during the middle of the shift and rushed out of the room. I took care of stuff, came right back, re-washed my hands and went back to working.

Before I even said anything, my supervisor came over and said she heard I was sick, but she couldn’t send me home because I already had a report against me and I’d be fired.


I didn’t even request to go home or anything, yet I felt like I'd been hung out to dry.

Through the preceding days I would be stumbling to work feeling like I couldn’t take another step, but knowing that we were so busy I just couldn’t call in and give up on them. I’m part of the team and they need all hands on deck to make it through.

But I comforted myself that if worst came to worst, at least they’d know I tried and I wouldn’t get in trouble if they sent me home early. But now I can’t leave? Wasn’t it better that I came in and did what I could? No. I guess that is not better than nothing.

The harsh reality: one minute or one day, you are still docked.

So, this morning I got to work. Started heading in to costuming, and got really sick. Someone told me to just call in and go home. By the time I pulled myself together I knew I would be late, since there is that long walk and hundreds of people between me and that time clock. So I gave in. I called in and I went home.

And the whole way home I was like, this is crazy! I should call them and tell them what happened and ask them if I could still come in. But they would have already gotten someone to cover my shift by then, and I didn’t want to trouble them further. And I was too scared to cause more of a scene by calling and bothering them. So I went home and stayed there.


*deep breath*


I had a nervous breakdown. I could already envision the introduction of my biography: “In the Fall of 2012, Dalyn had a mental break and was admitted into a suicide watch ward.” …

While I was bent over the sink of our apartment vomiting up my meal for the day which was now streaked with blood in it, I considered going to a hospital.

Surely that would be proof enough of something or other, right? ...Then I could go home and get some help, and not just be labled a failure or a quitter, right?

When someone starts considering ways to create their cry for help, that is when things get real. Fast.


And it scared me.

I can’t pretend that working here isn’t a big head game. I have spent most of the week coming to grips that I just don’t have “what it takes to hack it” in this industry.

This brings my education and my career choices into question.

Do I drop out of school?
Do I quit before they fire me or something?

It’s so hard to understand everything said to me at work sometimes because I wasn’t smart enough to learn Spanish before I came out here.

I feel like I have had this amazing opportunity down here and I just blew it.

I can’t blame my failing health for it completely. An unplanned pregnancy right now is just REALLY bad timing. I wish I could just reset to my last save point before all of this started and just do it all again.


When following a competition reality show, there always seems to be someone who has a crisis meltdown and like walks out of the competition. I understand it now.

The competition to get into this position was so fierce. I wanted to do it so badly. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to leave my children for so long. I was afraid I wouldn’t remember everything I learned in school and bring shame. I was afraid that I would mess it all up.

But I went for it and told myself that it was precisely BECAUSE I was so scared that this would be a good experience for me. I should learn a lot about myself and regardless of how long I am able to be here, I need to make the most of every moment of it.

Well, I’ve done all of that.
The fear?
Oh yes.
I deal with all of that not day to day but just moment to moment.

Was the experience good for me?
I knew that I would regret it forever if I gave up before I even started.

But my problem is that I just don’t feel adequate enough to be here anymore, and I just don’t want to waste their time or something.

And I don’t have any witty comments or scenarios to get me through this one.
So I’m at a quandary.

My personal life does indeed feel like it’s hanging by a thread tonight.
And it looks like my entire career is about to go up in smoke.
And there is nothing I can do about it either way tonight.

So I wrote this report. I’ll submit it and go to bed. I’ll get to work early tomorrow. They’ll either send me packing or send me to a station to work. At least then the worrying will all be over and my fate will be decided for me. What more can I do tonight?

In last minute news, we switched from these “Happy Chef” logo baseball caps to the new kufi style hats. Here’s what the old logo looked like. I’ve liked it all along.

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